Heart of a Champion
by idearlylovealaugh
Summary: What could be worth more than an Olympic medal and the Quidditch World Cup?


AN: This incredibly silly bit of fluff came to me when I was watching the Olympics and I apologize for it. I'm not JKR and everything HP belongs to her.

 _-click-_

Hermione pressed a button on the remote and was gratified with the sound of swelling strings and inspirational choral signing. Usually it would be a strange sight to see the witch watching television by herself rather than reading or working, but the last week had seen a marked change. In fact, the TV in the Granger-Weasley household had gotten much more use generally as the family had enthusiastically followed the 2016 Olympic Summer Games in Brazil. Hermione had never been a big fan of sport in general, but she had fond memories of watching the Olympics with her parents; one of her earliest recollections involved sitting on her mother's lap, watching Torvill and Dean's gold medal-winning ice dance routine in Sarajevo with rapt attention. Ron, it turned out, was fascinated by the vast array of muggle sport on display, alternately amazed and baffled by the different events contested ( _"You think it's strange to fly on brooms, Hermione, but muggles use them to sweep ice so they can slide a ruddy great stone into a circle?!"_ ).

The 2012 Summer Games had been held in London, which had been quite a thrill. They had taken the children to see the marathon runners fly through the city streets, waving British flags and cheering at the top of their lungs. Hermione found that the Olympics was a excellent opportunity to teach them about other cultures, but more than that, watching the events was something they all enjoyed doing together as a family. These Rio Games had been no exception, although tonight Rose and Hugo were both staying the night at the Burrow after spending the day swimming with their cousins. Even so, Hermione had automatically sank onto the couch and turned on the TV after work that evening, glad to unwind after a grueling day at the ministry.

She had only seen a few athletes compete when she heard the familiar click of the lock immediately followed by her husband swinging open the front door.

"I'm home, love," Ron called, closing the door behind him. "Phew, what a day. I was run off my feet." He turned and grinned as he saw her ensconced on the sofa. "You too?"

"Most definitely," she agreed emphatically, stifling a yawn.

"Barely got to have lunch today, I'm starved. What are you thinking for dinner?" he asked, kicking off his shoes by the door.

"I took out the leftovers from last weekend since I knew we were both going to be late. I already ate, but everything's hot and in the kitchen," she replied, smiling as he stooped to kiss her forehead on his way by.

"Brilliant," he replied, and moments later she heard the clattering of dishes as Ron made himself a plate.

"What's on tonight?" he asked, coming back from the kitchen with a butterbeer in one hand and balancing large bowl of spag bol and a plate of chocolate cake on the other arm.

"I really only turned it on a few minutes ago," she answered as he carefully sat down beside her. "I think they're marking time until the last of the swimming finals by showing some highlights from other events. Right now it's rhythmic gymnastics, which is very… well, it's very different from the gymnastics we were watching earlier this week. It's almost more like dancing, but with props and, well, the women are still phenomenal athletes, you'll see," she explained as the camera zoomed in on a woman in a brilliantly sparkling leotard gracefully walking to the center on the floor. The woman smiled and struck a pose with her giant hoop as the music began to play.

"This one's Bulgarian," Ron remarked as her name and country were displayed on the screen and she began her routine. "Wait..." he added slowly, "Iliana Ankov _Krum_? Is that…?"

"Goodness, it must be!" Hermione exclaimed. She knew Victor had married a gymnast, but their communication was so infrequent, she really didn't know the details and certainly had never thought to ask what sort. The last time they had seen him had been at the Quidditch World Cup in Patagonia where they had been able to congratulate him briefly after the match. They had met his wife for a mere moment, but now that she saw the face of the competing gymnast she _did_ look vaguely familiar. "How exciting for them, for her to be in the Olympics!"

"Hmm," Ron agreed distractedly. Hermione glanced over at him and rolled her eyes as she saw that his attention was fully glued to the screen, watching the lithe woman intently as she leapt and gyrated across the floor. His eyes widened as her hips swayed hypnotically to keep her hoop in motion, letting out a low whistle as she stretched into an elegant backbend and sank into a full split. "Well done, Krum," he said under his breath.

"And what does _that_ mean?" Hermione cried indignantly.

Ron looked over at her, startled. He took in her narrowed eyes and challenging expression. "Oh come on, Hermione. I just meant… well, she's very pretty, isn't she? And very, er, flexible."

" _Flexible_? She's a world class athlete, Ron!"

"I know, I know! What I mean to say," he continued in a placating voice, "is that it's nice that he married another athlete. They must have a lot in common, you know. Loads to talk about."

"Unlike Victor and I, you mean," she snorted. Ron diplomatically avoided answering with a well-time pull of his drink. "Well I suppose it's true enough. Anyway," she added in a suggestive voice, "we didn't do much talking. Oh, Ron!" she giggled, as he started to choke on his butterbeer.

"It just went down the wrong tube. I knew you were joking," he defended as soon as he caught his breath, with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Right," Hermione said, shaking her head fondly. "Anyway, by that logic, you must think I should've married a bookworm!"

"Good lord, no!" Ron grinned. "Can you imagine? I saved you from that fate, love."

Hermione's teasing answer was cut off by a flourish of loud music and the applause of the crowd as Iliana's routine ended. "Hey look, she won the bronze!" Ron exclaimed as her scores flashed across the screen. On screen, Victor's wife jumped up and down in happiness, flinging her arms around her coach. "Merlin, a Quidditch World Cup and an Olympic medal," Ron smiled down at her. "Hell of a trophy room they must have at home, eh?"

Hermione couldn't help smiling back. There was no trace of jealousy or sourness in his tone, just his usual humour and a hint of mischief. It still amazed her at times that the boy who had struggled so painfully with insecurity had grown into the content, self-assured man that sat next to her, bringing so much joy to her life. She could literally feel all the stress and pressure of her day melting away as they teased and bickered good-naturedly. Not a day went by that she wasn't reminded of the many reasons she loved her husband, but sometimes the strangest moments brought all her pride and happiness to the surface in a burst of spontaneous affection. "You are the absolute limit, Ron Weasley!" she said, leaning into him and squeezing him tightly around the middle.

"What, me?" he laughed, hastily setting his bowl on the coffee table before he could spill anything on his wife.

"Yes, you. You are absolutely ridiculous. Thank goodness you saved me from that bookworm," she said fiercely, resting her head against his chest as he kissed the top of her head, still slightly mystified.

She stood from the couch abruptly, leaving him gaping up at her.

"How invested are you in these swimming finals?"

"Not overly - why?" he asked, taking her outstretched hand.

She pulled him to standing and reached her arms up around his neck. Standing on tiptoes, she kissed him deeply. "Because we have the whole house to ourselves, and I'm rather keen to show you some things that _I_ can do in the water," she answered slyly as she broke the kiss and tugged him towards the stairs. He followed with a dazed expression on his face, happily anticipating what would surely be another gold-medal performance.


End file.
